Amy's Black Wedding
by Solar Winded Flare
Summary: Amy Kramer's getting married, but it's not what she ever expected. She's marrying someone she never dreamed she'd marry, and she's not the least bit happy about it. Slappy/Amy.


**Amy's Black Wedding**

She looked magnificent in the long black gown that adorned her thin, almost frail body. It outlined her curves perfectly, giving the impression that she was twenty-one instead of eighteen. Her long black hair was pinned up in an elegant updo, a few curls falling out here and there.

As Amy looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized herself.

She used to be happy. She used to spend her days with Jed and Sara, watching movies, going to the mall, doing normal teenage stuff. She used to eat dinner with her family and laugh. They would each discuss the weather, how work was for Mr. and Mrs. Kramer, or how school was going for the three teens.

Yet, here Amy stood, in front of this large mirror, Gothic-styled walls surrounding her in this gloomy bedroom.

Maids went about their business, some fussing over Amy's appearance, others cleaning up the room for Amy's return. Her first night as a married woman would be spent alone, much to her relief, but the nights after would be hell.

Standing here in her black dress, black veil with intricate floral patterns, and her feathered black gloves, she felt alone.

This was supposed to be a happy occasion. Amy should be wearing a beautiful white gown with a white veil and a bouquet of flowers.

Instead, she looked like she was going to a funeral.

"It's almost time, Miss Amy," one of the maids said, but Amy barely even heard her.

The only thing that registered to her was the loud pounding of her heart and the roiling anxiety in her stomach.

"Miss Amy?"

The black-haired girl nodded. "I know."

The maid shot her a worried glance before leaving the room.

Finally, the doomed bride-to-be turned away from the mirror and made her way down to the foyer. Maids and servants bustled about, rushing to complete any last-minute tasks before the wedding started.

As Amy made her way down the stairs, many people stopped to 'ooh' and 'aah' at her gorgeous appearance. Only when they saw the forlorn, sad expression on her face did they all avert their gazes.

Amy's dress trailed behind her as she walked out of the foyer and to the front yard of the massive castle.

It was as if death himself was accompanying her, ready to walk her down the aisle and give her up to the one she would soon call 'husband'.

xXx

Amy's entrance proved to surprise many people. She was a truly beautiful girl; such a shame that _he_ had her all to himself. Such a shame she couldn't find another man to marry, one who would provide her with children and a life of happiness instead of one of servitude.

At the altar stood the priest, a gloomy-looking fellow who looked to be quite old. He had a sorrowful aura about him, one that make even the happiest person become depressed.

Next to the priest stood the best man, a random servant selected from the kitchen. He, too, looked sad.

And there, standing next to the best man, was the very monster forcing Amy into this marriage. His orange hair was slicked back, a black tuxedo adorning his body. He was quite handsome, but his mind was twisted and his intentions for Amy were anything but good.

Although, there was a small part of him that actually felt affection towards the eighteen year-old girl.

When he turned around to look at Amy, his emerald-green eyes were glowing with anticipation.

Amy was so lost in her miserable thoughts that she didn't even realize she'd made her way down the aisle until she felt her soon-to-be husband take her hand. A devious smile reached his lips and for a moment, Amy could only think of one thing.

_I shouldn't have let him read that human spell off of Google._

xXx

The wedding went by in a blur and soon, it was over. Amy didn't have to mingle with the guests; she hardly knew anyone, anyway.

She quickly retired to her personal quarters, the one place that terrible man wouldn't dare curse with his presence.

Amy tore off the veil and the gloves and threw them on the floor, letting her temper get the best of her.

_I freaking _hate_ him! He was already doing enough damage as a dummy; why did he have to turn himself human and kidnap me? Why, why, __why__?!_

"Aren't you a little old to be throwing temper tantrums?"

Amy's murderous gaze fell on her husband, who was leaning against the doorway, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face.

She briefly remembered how he kissed her in front of all those people, how perfectly his lips felt against hers. The way his hand cupped her cheek, the divine cologne he wore...

_No!_ Amy thought, mentally slapping herself. _Bad thoughts, Amy, bad thoughts!_

"Aren't you supposed to be tending to your friends downstairs?"

He grinned. "It's nearly five o'clock. Many of them have things to do, my dear slave."

Amy gritted her teeth. "Don't call me that, Slappy."

Slappy's grin grew wider. "I'll call you whatever I wish, _Slave_. Now, be a good girl and come help me _relax_."

The girl grimaced. She had a feeling that 'relax' didn't mean a shoulder rub, hot tea, and fetching the newspaper.

"No."

Slappy frowned. "Amy."

"No! You've done enough, Slappy! You kidnapped me, you forced me to marry you, and now you expect sex? Get lost!"

He grabbed her wrist and dug his nails into the tender skin. Amy forced herself to not let out a pained cry.

"I'm sorry, Amy," Slappy purred, his voice bittersweet. "But I've been waiting years for this opportunity. I've grown impatient."

That night wasn't as bad as Amy thought it would be. Slappy was gentle with her, surprisingly, and his kisses were deep and passionate.

For the first few weeks of their marriage, she hated him.

But slowly and surely, she began to fall for him.

Their love made it easier to deal with the hellish nine months to come...

xXx

A little girl with big green eyes and long black hair tugged on her mother's sleeve.

Amy put down the book she was reading and looked down to see her five-year-old daughter staring up at her.

The raven-haired woman smiled. "You should go to bed, Sophita. It's past your bedtime."

"Mama? Can you tell me how you met Daddy?"

Amy smiled, her mind traveling back to when her father bought her Slappy, the accursed dummy that ended up giving her the tiny miracle standing beside her.

"Well, sweetheart, it's a complicated story."

"Can I hear it?"

Amy nodded, allowing Sophita to climb up onto her lap.

"Your daddy and I didn't really like each other at first, but sometimes, that's how people grow to like each other..."

In the doorway, Slappy smiled, watching his wife and daughter sitting together beside the fireplace.

For such a dark wedding, their future was pretty light.

* * *

**I know a lot of people on Fanfiction aren't too crazy about OCs, but hey, why not?**

**Yes, their daughter's name is Sophita. Pretty name, I think.**

**Anyway, let me know what you think. I know it's not a perfect little oneshot, but I tried :)**


End file.
